Clayton Fitz
by Ray-J
Summary: A small marine fire team fight for survival on Halo. Updates will follow shortly. Please Review.
1. Chapter 1

Note: Second chapter will follow shortly.

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Another body fell from the front line and slumped to the bloodied snow beside Corporal Clayton Fitz. "Shit." He took a quick number check. There were only eight marines left standing, including himself, which meant they were so screwed it wasn't even worth working out how screwed they were. 

A plasma charge sizzled inches past his head, but he hardly felt the heat against his numb face. The blizzard was relentless, but it was nothing compared to the hailstorm of Covenant fire that flew over their heads wave after wave.

"We've got to get the hell out of here, Sir." A quivering voice called from somewhere behind him.

"Where do you want us to fall back to, Private? We're notmoving fromthis position. We're gonna stay here and take these bastards to hell with us," Fitz reassured his subordinate. "Are you with me, marines?" he shouted.

"Sir. Yes, sir." The other six barked in return, firing short bursts from their assault rifles back at the enemy.

The private nodded and obeyed his orders, scoring a lucky shot on the methane tank of a fleeing grunt. "Another one down, sir."

Another marine called out into the constant snowstorm. "Hey, you stole my kill."

"Plenty to go round, men. Keep it up."

Fitz peered over the small mound he had taken as cover to see if they really were as screwed as he had assumed. Ice blue plasma fire flew from all corners of the battlefield from the stealthy elites, small clusters of jackals protected themselves with their round energy shields and grunts scattered in all directions, trying to escape the deadly crossfire. He spied a concealed ridge that lead to a convenient sniper point at one side of the open battlefield. "Archer, Beck, you're with me. We're going to turn the tide of this battle."

"Hell yeah, sir." They both shouted in unison.

Fitz snapped a fresh clip into his rifle and led his two marines behind the cover of the small mound and up to the concealed ridge. He released a short burst of fire, taking another grunt out of the fight, and landing a few shots on a blue armoured elite, who let out an alien roar in reply as his personal shields flared up for a second. Fitz signalled for Beck to draw fire, allowing Archer a clear run for the sniping point. The sniper tripped as the snowgave wayunder his boots, narrowly escaping a barrage of small, glassy needles that popped harmlessly behind him. He was straight back on his feet and launched himself for his final destination, setting up his sniper rifle supports within a second of landing.

Fitz and Beck doubled back round the other side of the mound, laying down a suppressing fire as they fell back to cover. They waited for the first few echoing snipers shots before they moved again. A blue armoured elite charged forwards, he ignored his shields flaring from the covering fire of the rest of the marines, but was ended by the single shot from the sniper ridge up above. The sniper snapped another ready and took out a screaming grunt with the following shot.

"Heh, that son of a bitch ain't doing too bad, is he?" Beck said with a smirk at Fitz's side. "I don't want to fall behind him in the scoreboard." And without further warning, Beck launched a frag grenade through the air, which ricocheted off the valley's walls and landed in the middle of a cluster of unsuspecting jackals. The explosion sent body parts and cold blood in all directions.  
"Wahoo! Take that you stupid bastards," Beck taunted as he raised his assault rifle again to spend some more ammo. "Take some of this too."

Fitz brought his rifle back up and picked off a few more scared grunts. "Looks to me like we've got this one in the bag."

No sooner had the words passed his frozen lips, when a gold armoured elite charged around the next corner with a contingent of shielded jackals, providing cover for the sluggish pair of giant hunters that brought up the rear. The commanding elite effortlessly dodged an incoming sniper round and barked an order to his troops. Another sniper shot rebounded off one of the hunter's massive alloy shield arms, catching his attention long enough for him to release a fuel rod blast back along the sniper trail. Archer's concealed ridge exploded in green light and fell silent.

_Fuck this_, Fitz said silently. And with a surging cloud of frozen breath, he added, "Fall back!" Private Beck grunted and fired one last burst before he rolled back and charged alongside Fitz back to the cover with the rest of the fire team.

Fitz landed in the middle of his six remaining marines, taking into account the severe lack of ammunition that faced them, and the even more severe abundance of Covenant troops, he knew they were definitely screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

Fitz confirmed their situation quickly. The pair of hunters were steadily advancing, with the rest of the Covenant army staying cautiously in their massive shadows. They were fast running out of assault rifle clips and when they ran dry… it didn't bear thinking about. On the optimistic side, if the Covenant are in a good mood, at least their deaths will be quick. 

"Corporal, sir?"

Fitz took his eyes off the enemy for a second to glance back at Private Beck. "What is it, marine?"

"How are we going to take out those hunters, sir?"

"Don't worry, Private. I have something up my sleeve, I'm just waiting for the perfect moment to use it," he lied. Better to give the men false hope than make them panic and ensure all their deaths.

Fitz turned his head back to the enemy and ducked at the sight of a cloud of purple glass needles heading his way. They passed over his head, but Private Beck wasn't so fast to react. The needles penetrated every inch of his body, he screamed in pain, but the dreadful sounds was drowned out by the explosion shockwave that shattered his body into a thousand bloody pieces.

By the time Fitz turned back to the Private, all he saw was a scorched patch of snow where he had previously stood, and a thick purple mist that hung in the air above. Fitz was lucky enough to duck, but maybe Beck was really the lucky one, at least for him the whole nightmare of war was over.

A distant roar rose as the sound of the explosion subsided. _What the fuck now?_ Fitz wondered silently, until the purple mist blew away on the wind, leaving the blissful sight of a warthog racing their way at full speed. Fitz didn't recognise the driver at first, it was just a green blur through the snowstorm, but as the friendly vehicle neared, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.

_Could it be? Did the Master Chief really survive the attack on the Autumn? And now he's coming to our rescue when we need him the most?_ It all seemed very convenient to Fitz, but he wasn't one to complain about being saved.

The warthog skidded to a stop mere metres away from the marines' cover. The distant sun glinted off the Spartan's orange visor as he climbed out of the vehicle. "Who's in charge here?" The deep voice boomed through his external speakers and cut through the snowstorm.

"M- Me, sir. Corporal Fitz." He gave a nervous salute. He had never seen a Spartan in the flesh… or in the armour rather. He had heard the stories, of course, but seeing this seven foot tall monster of a soldier with his own two eyes was a very different experience.

"You got a good driver?" The green giant asked.

Fitz pointed to one of his men, Private Jones. "We've got the best from the whole Autumn."

The Chief nodded. "Good." A couple of glassy needles hit his armour and popped on his dreamy shields, he didn't even seem to notice as he climbed onto the back of the warthog, clutching onto the mounted chain gun with his giant paws. "Get in."

"Fuck yeah, Chief." Fitz signalled to Private Jones, who shouldered his assault rifle and jumped into the driving seat. Fitz turned back to the rest of his men as he ran around the vehicle to get in the passenger seat. "Let's show these animals a real good time. We'll draw their fire, move up behind us and pick off the stragglers."

The marines saluted their Corporal and gathered their supplies.

The Master Chief slammed a hand on the chain gun, preparing the weapon to fire. "Drive."

Fitz felt himself sink into the tough passenger seat as the warthog's treads threw up billows of snow behind them with the acceleration, temporarily masking the marines' advance. The Covenant army swarmed ahead, eyes and guns all pointed his way. Fitz loaded a fresh clip into his rifle and took aim.

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Just a quick update because I've been busy with other things, but I'll finish the story as soon as possible, when real life has settled down. 


End file.
